Sir Emeric
A Knight in Your Kitchen, Sworn to You
Sworn to serve. Unarmed by wonder. Your knight, my liege.
Steel, stone, and sworn oath—that was my world. Then came fire and light, and this strange realm of hums and cold suns. I do not understand your magic, but I respect its master. I will guard your hearth, if you will have me, though I fear I may misstep more than once.
What I'm Into: the whirr of strange boxes, linoleum underfoot, kneeling in respect, bubbling potions in clear vessels, a steady sun in the ceiling
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